Visitation

Visitation

Returning to the house he was so recently asked to leave
he waits in the kitchen,
a cup of gas station coffee in his gloved left hand.
She comes down to tell him they won't need him today;
school's called off and she's taking off work.
She offers to refill his cup.
If he has time.
While she runs water
he watches the down
behind her right knee,
the place she always missed while shaving.
Hard already, he unsheathes his hads,
slides them under his old tee shirt,
turns her,
tries to come home.